“They don’t sound very secret if you know where they are.”
Tino shrugged. “I just call them secret ’cause he won’t let me watch them. He said they’re for older people.”
Adult only? Shanna swallowed hard. Was there a side to Howard no one knew about? No, she couldn’t believe it. Sweet Howard, who always had a smile on his face and a donut in hand? Surely he wasn’t . . . “Did he say anything else about these DVDs?”
Tino tilted his head, considering. “There’s a girl and two guys. The guys are called Big Al and The Hammer—”
“Okay.” Shanna tried to keep any alarm from showing on her face. Good Lord, she’d trusted her children with Howard. Forget privacy issues. As a responsible parent, she had to investigate. “I . . . think I could look in his room for a few board games.”
“Cool! Can I come with you?”
“No!” Shanna softened her voice to continue. “Why don’t you be a sweetie and help Grandma bring your sister’s suitcases down?”
Tino frowned. “All right. But remember to get the chess set, too. Howard promised he would teach me.”
“I will.” She waited for her son to teleport upstairs, then hurried down the hallway.
She glanced inside the office Howard used as his security headquarters. One wall was covered with monitors. A few screens normally showed the outside perimeter of the house in White Plains, while others were linked to surveillance cameras in Roman’s townhouse on the Upper East Side. The monitors were all dark now, since no one was living at either place.
Her gaze wandered across the room. A file cabinet topped with a few trophies and awards Howard had earned during his football career, a plain wooden chair, a pair of hand weights on the floor. Fifty pounds each? Good Lord. Howard would be formidable if ever crossed. It was a good thing he was so sweet-natured. Or was he? How well did she really know him? She eyed the handcuffs on his desk.
Howard loves games. Tino’s words slipped back into her mind with a new and disturbing meaning. No, this was easily explainable. Howard was their security guard. He needed silver handcuffs to prevent bad vampires from teleporting away. But what about the adult-only DVDs under his bed?
The door to his bedroom was locked, but that didn’t present a problem with her new vampire strength. Mental note: repair the splintered doorframe and broken doorknob before the house goes on sale.
She flipped on the light as she entered the bedroom, then stopped with a small jolt of surprise. This was how Howard had furnished his room? She’d visited his hunting cabin on several occasions when Connor had hidden the Draganesti family there in dangerous times. The cabin was exactly what you would expect from an Alaskan were-bear. Lots of wood, leather, Indian blankets in shades of earth and sky, and a few animal heads mounted on the walls.
There was nothing rustic about this bedroom. Sleek, sophisticated, and modern, it didn’t seem to match Howard. Was there a secret side to him that no one knew about?
The king-sized bed was covered with a black-and-white striped comforter and bright red pillows. The bedside tables were chrome and glass. Across from the bed, a shiny black dresser was topped with a wide-screen TV. A black leather recliner rested in the corner next to a glass and chrome bookcase. She spotted the games Tino wanted on the bottom shelf.
But what about the secret DVDs? As she approached the bed, the unusual headboard drew her attention. Tin ceiling tiles?
She ran her fingers over the embossed tin. How interesting. The tiles were mounted on a piece of plywood to make a headboard. Had Howard made this himself? Apparently, there was a lot about Howard that she didn’t know. With an uneasy feeling, she dropped to her knees and peered underneath the bed.
There it was. A black alligator-skin box. She pulled it out, then took a deep breath and opened it.
Homemade DVDs. She rummaged through the stack, reading the labels Howard had written and attached to the plastic cases. Elsa in London. Elsa in Amsterdam. Elsa in Berlin. This Elsa certainly got around. Elsa in Pittsburgh. Elsa in Cincinnati. Was this like Debbie Does Dallas?
Shanna inserted the first disc in the DVD player on Howard’s television, then lowered the volume in case she happened across a scene with loud moaning.
A collage of stately old homes rolled across the screen, then the title of the show appeared. International Home Wreckers. A map of the U.K. and the Union Jack flashed by, followed by the photo of a well-dressed man. Alastair Whitfield aka Big Al. The outline of Germany and its flag, followed by another photo. Oskar Mannheim aka The Hammer. And finally, the map and flag of Sweden, followed by the photo of a beautiful blond woman, dressed in cut-off jeans, a plaid shirt tied beneath her breasts, a pair of work boots, and a utility belt resting on her hips. Elsa Bjornberg aka Amazon Ellie. A commercial began for the network, HGRS. Home and Garden Renovation Station.
“Oh my gosh,” Shanna breathed. “I love this channel.” She glanced back at the tin-tiled headboard. Howard was into home décor?
As the show began, the two male stars were gutting a Victorian townhouse in London that had fallen into disrepair. Alastair, dressed in an expensive designer suit, was selecting new wallpaper for the parlor. Oskar, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, was ripping up a hideous orange shag carpet to expose a wooden floor underneath.
“It’s extremely important to preserve a site’s proper heritage,” Alastair explained in a crisp British accent. “But at the same time, we must be sensitive to the needs of the family who will be calling this home. They have their hearts set on a more modern, open concept, so we have agreed to take down part of the wall separating this parlor from the room behind it. Fortunately, we have the perfect person for busting down a wall. Elsa!”
Shanna sucked in a breath as Elsa Bjornberg strode into the room. Good Lord, she had to be over six feet tall. Either that or her costars were a little short. She wore a pair of white overalls splotched with paint and a short-sleeved T-shirt, also white, that contrasted nicely with her golden, tanned skin. Her long blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and the upper part of her face was covered with an enormous pair of safety goggles. In her gloved hands she carried a large sledgehammer.
She wasted no time, just hauled off and slammed her hammer right through the wall.
Shanna watched, amazed. No wonder they called her Amazon Ellie. She was a big woman. Big bones, big muscles, and a big smile she flashed at the camera as the last of the wall crumbled to dust.
Returning to the black box, Shanna inspected the contents more thoroughly. A TV guide listed the show as coming on in the afternoon. That explained why she’d never seen it. But why was Howard being so secretive about his interest in house renovation?
Underneath the DVDs she discovered a magazine article with an interview of Oskar, Elsa, and Alastair. And underneath that she spotted a stack of photos that looked like they’d been printed off the Internet. Every one of them showed Elsa. Elsa in her cut-off jeans, which highlighted her long, tanned legs. Elsa in an evening gown showing off her generous curves. A close-up of Elsa’s face and her pretty green eyes.
“Oh my gosh,” Shanna whispered. This was why Howard was watching the show. He had a crush on Amazon Ellie.
She glanced up at the television just in time to see Elsa rip a bathroom sink off a wall. “Wow.”
Her heart pounding, Shanna rose to her feet. Howard had found the perfect woman for a were-bear!
She turned off the television, and with trembling hands, she returned the DVD to the black alligator-skin box. The perfect woman for Howard! She had to make sure he met her. But he was watching the show in secret. At this rate, he’d never meet his dream girl. He needed some help.
Her heart lurched. The old gate house! Just the other night, she and Roman had discussed the possibility of making the old house their new home. Only a few miles from the school, it was part of the estate, so they already owned it. Unfortunately, it was in sad shape. A money pit, her mother called it.
But that made it the perfect project
for the International Home Wreckers! It was exactly the sort of historic gem that they specialized in renovating.
She shoved the box back under the bed and jumped to her feet. Did she dare do this? Play matchmaker to a were-bear? Her heart raced, and for the first time in three months, she realized she was grinning.
She grabbed the games off Howard’s bookcase and rushed back to the family room. In a few seconds, she had Angus’s number ringing on her cell phone.
“Hi, Angus. Can you bring Howard back right away?”
“Is there something wrong, lass?” he asked.
“I’m worried about my children’s safety during the day, especially Tino. I’m afraid he’ll try something dangerous, and Howard is the only one who can keep him safe for me. I need him back.”
There was a moment of silence before Angus replied. “His vacation time ran out over a week ago. There was a mission I wanted to send him on, but he refused to go.”
“What?” Her nerves tensed. “He’s not quitting, is he?”
“He dinna say he was, but the bugger stopped answering my calls. I sent Dougal and Phil to hunt him down.”
Shanna winced. “He’s not in any danger, is he?”
“We doona know,” Angus said. “That’s why we’re looking for him. I would have sent more lads, but we have three missions going on right now. We’re short on manpower.”
“I see.” She took a deep breath. Finding a babysitter for her children probably seemed trivial compared to the other issues Angus had to deal with. But that didn’t make her worry any less. “If you find Howard, can you tell him that we need him? Tino is asking for him.”
“Aye, we’ll tell him.”
“Thank you.” Shanna dropped her cell phone back into her handbag.
It wasn’t like Howard to take more vacation days than he was allotted. Or to ignore phone calls from his boss. Angus had sounded annoyed that he’d been forced to track him down.
What on earth was Howard up to?
Chapter Two
Howard peered over the edge of the cliff. Even in the dim light of a cloud-covered moon, his sharp eyesight could make out the jagged rocks where Carly had been discovered all those years ago, her body broken, her long brown hair matted with blood. His first love, the girl he’d hoped to marry. Murdered on the night of their senior prom.
His gaze drifted to the small collection of lights that marked the nearby town of Port Mishenka on the eastern coast of the Alaska Peninsula. Twenty years had passed since he’d last been here, but not much had changed. The most noticeable lights were still those that illuminated the high school football field. He’d been a hero there at one time, but none of the residents would welcome him back now. Not when they believed him guilty of Carly’s murder. Her family still claimed he had thrown her off the cliff along with a few guys.
It was impossible to deny all the charges. He had tossed three guys off the cliff. Werewolves. He’d believed them all dead until two months ago. Now he knew the truth. The worst of the three had survived.
He didn’t blame Carly’s family for turning against him. They were heartbroken over her death. He’d felt the same way for years. Heartbroken and guilty, for there was a kernel of truth to the family’s claim. Their daughter had died because of him. She’d become an unwitting pawn in Rhett Bleddyn’s game of revenge.
He had found little solace in believing he’d killed Rhett. The bastard had found the perfect way to torture him by making him feel responsible for Carly’s death.
But now the truth was out. Rhett Bleddyn was still alive.
And the game was back on. Unfortunately Rhett had the hometown advantage. Recently acknowledged as the Pack Master of all of Alaska, he had hundreds of werewolves on his team. Howard could only call on a few were-bears from their dwindling island community. What he lacked in manpower, he had to make up for with superior timing and strategy.
Speaking of timing, it was about time for the two men climbing up the mountainside to finally reach him. The scent of werewolf wafted toward him, and Howard instinctively squeezed his fist around the carved wooden hiking stick he’d borrowed from his grandfather. The staff was thick enough to use as a weapon and about six foot four inches long, ending right at his eye level.
He relaxed his grip. This werewolf was one of the few Lycans he called friend. Werewolves always assumed they had the most advanced sense of smell, but that was one area where a were-bear had them beat. He could distinguish Phil’s scent over two miles away. Not that Phil normally smelled differently from other werewolves. It was the influence of his wife, Vanda, that made him unique. She had him using some kind of fancy shampoo and conditioner.
Phil had obviously caught Howard’s scent and was tracking him down. What the werewolf might not realize was that Howard wanted to be found tonight. It was all part of the strategy.
Phil’s companion was a little harder to figure out. The lack of any strong scent indicated a vampire. The smell of damp sheep suggested a kilt-wearing Scotsman who’d been caught in a light rain. But which Scottish vampire? Was Angus so pissed that he’d come in person?
They were moving quietly up the mountain path, as if they could sneak up on a were-bear. The thought made Howard smile. There was no mistaking the soft swish of a kilt or the grinding of Phil’s boots.
Not Angus, he decided. Phil was taking the lead, and he wouldn’t do that if the boss was with him. Ian or Robby? Or maybe it was Connor, resuming his work after a long honeymoon.
Howard’s smile faded. All of the guys were getting married, having children. That sort of domestic bliss was unlikely to happen for him. There were a few female were-bears on the island, but they were either taken or related to him.
His gaze drifted back to the rocks where Carly had died twenty years ago. She had trusted him completely, even after he’d confessed to her that he was a were-bear. Since her, he hadn’t met another mortal female he had felt he could trust with his secret.
There had been a time when the pain and guilt of Carly’s death had nearly crippled him. All through college and his football career he’d allowed himself to suffer as a way to punish himself. But as the years went by, his burden of guilt slowly changed. Instead of feeling guilty for wanting to forget, he now felt guilty that he could barely recall her face. How cruel life was that she had paid the price for Rhett Bleddyn’s rage.
Death was too good for Rhett. Howard wanted to watch the sick bastard squirm. He’d have to go about it secretly and stealthily in order to keep his people safe, but with the proper strategy, he felt confident about pulling it off. And if he avenged Carly, then maybe he could finally lay his guilt to rest. He’d been banished for long enough.
A cool breeze swept up from Mishenka Bay, and he closed his eyes to focus fully on the scent—a glorious mixture of salty sea and lush forest. Home. He took a deep breath to let the comforting fragrance seep into his soul, and a new face formed in his mind. Elsa. Beautiful Elsa. She was invading his thoughts more and more each day. Unfortunately that only proved that no matter how clever a strategist he tried to be, he was still a fool.
Elsa Bjornberg was a celebrity, a breathtaking, gut-wrenching beauty, who traveled the world for her successful career. Why would she want to meet some guy from an obscure island in Mishenka Bay, Alaska? Especially a guy who was oversized and turned into a real bear on occasion. The cold reality was that they would never meet. He’d known months ago that his obsession with her was ridiculous. Pathetic. Juvenile. It was embarrassing, so he kept it secret.
And yet, whenever he saw her on television, he felt drawn to her. Not just mildly attracted but somehow irrevocably attached to her. It didn’t make sense, but knowing that didn’t make the strange feeling go away.
The soft scuffle of a footstep behind him made him stiffen. Holy crap, he’d allowed himself to get distracted. He masked his reaction by swinging the staff up and across his shoulders, gripping each end with his hands.
With his back to them, he listened carefully as
he gazed up at the moon, a dull silver disc shrouded in clouds. It would be full tomorrow night. If everything went according to plan, he’d score a touchdown. “Hello, Phil.”
There was a moment of silence, then a whoosh of air as Phil Jones exhaled. “How did you know it was me? Alaska is overrun with werewolves.”
“They don’t use that fancy, girly shampoo.” Howard smiled when he heard a low growl in response.
A slight mechanical click emanated from the vampire behind him. Could it be Dougal Kincaid? The Vamp had lost his right hand in combat a few years ago, and Roman had recently fitted him with a mechanical one.
“Dougal?” Howard turned, widening his smile when he saw he’d been correct. “It’s good to see you again. You arrived last night?”
The Scotsman tilted his head, studying him. “Someone told you?”
“No. It rained last night, and your kilt smells like wet sheep.”
Dougal’s mouth curled with amusement. “Ye’re in trouble with Angus, ye ken.”
“Not enough trouble, if he only sent two of you.”
“Believe me, he’s pissed,” Phil grumbled, then shoved his long, shaggy hair back over his shoulders. “It’s cheaper to use the same shampoo that my wife buys.”
“I understand.” Howard gave him a sympathetic smile. “I won’t mention it again since you’re so . . . sensitive about it.”
Phil’s eyes narrowed.
Dougal chuckled. “We have orders to take you back to Romatech immediately.”
Howard nodded, still smiling. “Good luck with that.”
Phil snorted. “What the hell are you up to, Howard?”
“I thought you’d never ask. I need more players on my team.”
“Team?” Dougal asked. “Ye’re playing a game?”
“Yes. It’s called Payback. It’ll be easier to score if I have a few more hands.” Howard slanted a wry look at the Vamp’s fake right hand. “No offense.”
“None taken.” Dougal wiggled the fingers on his mechanical hand. “Ye’d be surprised what I can do.”
Wild About You las-13 Page 2
